


Negotiations

by GoldFrostbite13



Series: Blood, Sweat & Sex | A Multi-Fandom Oneshot Series [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU where they're both pornography execs, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Boss/Employee Relationship, Consensual, Daydreaming, Deepthroating, Dirty Talk, Draco is whipped for Harry, M/M, Modern AU, New Year's Eve, Office Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sexual Tension, blowjob, exhibition
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:28:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26541427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldFrostbite13/pseuds/GoldFrostbite13
Summary: "Draco bit his lip as he watched Harry read the contract and absentmindedly touch his mouth with his finger. Draco had witnessed that pretty mouth engulf cocks of all sizes, kiss shoulders of all colors, and eat pussy like a professional - which, of course, he was."Draco should have known a meeting with former porn star Harry Potter wouldn't stay businesslike.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Series: Blood, Sweat & Sex | A Multi-Fandom Oneshot Series [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1737082
Comments: 8
Kudos: 196
Collections: Lizzyant Drarry





	Negotiations

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Always practice safe sex with the proper protection and a safe word. Make sure your partner(s) can consent properly and are not inebriated.

There was nothing sexier than someone with power who knew how to use it, and that fact became painfully clear the night Draco walked into the office of Harry James Potter.

“Evening,” said Potter, rising politely from his desk as Draco entered. “Draco Malfoy?”

“That’s me.” Draco took his offered hand and shook it, once. He’d almost expected Potter’s hand to be soft, but his palms were callused - the sign of a working man, on the CEO of one of the richest corporations in England.

“Please, have a seat.” Potter nodded to one of the two chairs in front of his desk.

As he moved to take it, Draco let his eyes wander about the room, noting which of his expectations about Harry Potter’s office had been met, and which had been flipped on their head. The room was spacious, yet its effects gave it a cozy feel; the weathered walnut desk was cluttered with a couple photographs, colored sticky notes, and lined-up fountain pens. Behind the desk hung a bulletin board, covered with push pins and more sticky notes, and a painting of wildflowers that seemed the least pretentious of all the artwork Draco had seen in corporate offices. Next to a crackling fireplace stood a small table laden with a box of cigars, a single lit candle, a bottle of whiskey, and a few crystal glasses.

Draco perched upon the edge of the leather-cushioned chair, balancing his briefcase on his knees. “If I may cut to the chase, Mr. Potter…” He began, undoing the bag’s metal fasteners.

“Harry,” Potter cut in, and Draco blinked. “Apologies for the interruption. But you may call me Harry. And is it alright if I call you Draco?”

“Ah…Yes. That’s fine.” A bit caught off-guard by Potter - Harry’s - nonchalance, Draco quickly did some recalibrations in his mind. Apparently, the businessman wasn’t as serious and no-nonsense as he seemed on television and his banquet speeches. Though perhaps Draco shouldn’t have been so surprised; running a pornography site wasn’t exactly a solemn profession. Regaining his composure, Draco took out a heavy stack of papers and held it up. “May I?” He asked, gesturing towards the desk.

“Please,” Harry said courteously. As Draco separated the sections of the contract across the wood, he snuck a peek at Harry himself. He looked nearly identical to his twenty-year-old self, the person Draco had found in those steamy videos all those years ago. Same jawline, the devil-may-care stubble, the mysterious and attractive scar cutting subtly across his forehead, those gorgeous emerald green eyes that glittered with intelligence - though today, they were shielded by round, black-framed glasses that Draco had never seen before, and nevertheless found charming.

“Blimey, this is a lot to work through,” Harry remarked as he took in the length of the contract. “Especially for the last day of the year.”

“Yes, and my sincerest apologies about that,” Draco said, “My father chose to retire with spectacularly bad timing. Truly, Mr. Potter, spectacular. Er, sorry…Harry.”

Harry waved away the blunder with one large, sun-dark hand. “Well, I’m always up for a challenge. In any case, I’m glad you came to me directly. Most people would push the work on an assistant who can’t make head or tail of the thing they’re having me sign.” He sounded almost impressed, eyes gazing straight into Draco’s with an X-ray-like quality.

“I assure you, Harry,” Draco said, clicking his empty briefcase shut, “I’m not like most people.”

“Good.” Harry eyed the stacks of paper and plucked the closest one. “Terms and conditions,” He read the title.

Draco nodded. “And this is our quality assurance pledge. Equipment insurance. Autobiographies from our girls.” He touched each pile in turn. “To be honest, I’m not sure why your secretary asked for those.”

“I always ask for them,” Harry told him. He set down the packet he was holding and shuffled through the pages of the bios, each embellished with the pink and black logo of MasoGirlsXXX, the porn studio Draco’s father had founded. “The art is only as good as the actresses, right?”

“Oh…yeah, I suppose,” Draco agreed. He rarely heard men refer to porn as “art,” and when they did, they were usually the creeps that would get off to underage girls all dolled up in makeup and taffeta dresses. But Harry didn’t seem like that; his expression was serious as he skimmed through all ten biographies, and Draco could tell he was truly grateful of the work porn stars did, a connoisseur of the craft. Draco could appreciate that.

“I know your studio does a lot of BDSM work,” Harry said conversationally as he put down the papers. “Do they enjoy it?”

“The stars?” Draco felt surprised that someone would ask about the actresses’ well-being, especially someone who was powerful enough to not give a damn. His respect for Harry Potter grew even more. “Yes, I believe so. Some more than others. Unfortunately, we lost some talented, passionate women over the last couple years. What with the…instances of rape, and all.”

“Shame. Did they find better gigs?”

“Yes. My father never cared about them, obviously. But I helped them on their way.” Draco couldn’t help but puff his chest a little; he was proud of what he’d done, how he’d found these girls better work.

“How admirable,” Harry commented, an unironic smile gracing his lips. “That’s the kind of ethic we’re looking for.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Draco replied.

“Well, I’ll read through these, then,” Harry sighed, “Can’t miss any fine print. And I know it’s no great American novel like you’ve brought me,” He reached beneath the top of the desk, and Draco heard a drawer slide open, “But here’s a contract for my side.” He handed a thin packet to Draco. “If you see any discrepancies, let me know. And, please - feel free to distract me. I have a feeling we’ll be here a while.”

“My pleasure.” Draco began to read through the first part. _SexCenter will not be held liable for any off-set altercations, on-set accidents, blah, blah, blah, see section V for details on settling cases, section IV for legal demands of the buyer, etcetera, etcetera._

An ache began to form behind Draco’s eyes, and he paused his perusal for a moment. He detested this part of the business, the conferences and the going-in-circles dialogues for sex-related lawsuits. He liked to be a part of the action, talking face-to-face with the actors before they started a scene, making sure everyone was comfortable during said scene, tossing them robes once all was said and done. He thoroughly enjoyed being behind the camera, and unlike most people who worked in porn, had never felt the desire to work in front of it. Harry was different, Draco knew; the most successful male porn star of their generation, Harry did great work, whether it was editing the videos, setting the lighting and shots, or ruthlessly fucking whatever lucky actor his colleagues brought in. Draco bit his lip as he watched Harry read the contract and absentmindedly touch his mouth with his finger. Draco had witnessed that pretty mouth engulf cocks of all sizes, kiss shoulders of all colors, and eat pussy like a professional - which, of course, he was.

Draco crossed his legs and focused on the two gold-framed photographs on Harry’s desk in order to discourage the beginnings of a hard-on. “Friends of yours?” Draco asked, nodding at the photos and casually tossing a platinum-blond sheet of hair over his shoulder.

“Yeah,” Harry seemed relieved for the break. He tapped the first photo, an image of two people embracing on church steps. One was a woman with thick brown hair, wearing an intricate, flowing white gown with lacy detailing. The other was a tall, lanky, redheaded bloke, who wore an expression that said, _I’m the luckiest man in the world._ “Ron and Hermione,” Harry said fondly. “My best friends since high school. They’re the only classmates who supported me when I went into sex work. And this,” He said, indicating the other picture, “My godson, Teddy.” A months-old baby with a tuft of light-brown hair and wide, hazel eyes, looked curiously up at the camera.

“He’s so cute,” Draco cooed, and Harry beamed.

“Right?” Draco was grateful for the sudden glimpse into Harry’s life - far from the intimidatingly hot porn star, the real Harry seemed kind and gentle. The exact kind of lover Draco was looking for. “You have any kids, Draco?”

“Oh…no.” Draco generally adored babies, but he’d never really wanted children of his own. “I’m not really the start-a-family type.”

Harry nodded understandingly. “I see. Is your partner?”

The question was asked so casually that it could have easily been innocent, but something suggestive glittered in Harry’s green eyes. Draco smirked internally; he certainly didn’t mind being hit on by who was, in his opinion, the most attractive man on this side of the pond. “Haven’t got one of those, unfortunately.”

“Oh? I’m surprised,” Harry said, raising his eyebrows. “Pretty man like you.”

With his porcelain skin, long lashes, and waist-length hair, Draco was quite used to being called pretty, especially when he decided to go out in a dress. He hadn’t expected to be called that during a business meeting while wearing a modest charcoal-gray button-down, but it was a pleasant surprise, nonetheless.

Harry looked flustered at his own comment. “I’m sorry,” He said quickly, “That was out of line. I hope I didn’t make you feel uncomfortable…”

Draco grinned. “No, not at all. I can take a compliment,” He added, and Harry seemed to relax.

“Oh, good. I try to keep boundaries between myself and employees usually. Even in a business like this, the line needs to be drawn somewhere.”

“Of course. That makes sense.”

“But I couldn’t help but notice you when you walked in here. You’re very noticeable. I mean…” Harry covered his mouth, a faint blush dusting his brown cheeks. Draco found it adorable. “Never mind. Shutting up, now.”

Draco chuckled, and met Harry’s gaze for a bit longer than was necessary. When Draco broke off the connection, returning resolutely to his papers, his heart hammered in his chest. _Christ, I feel like a schoolboy._

Hours passed, and the twilight outside soon darkened to night. Even though it was only eleven, the bangs and pops of noisy, firework-armed revelers from below disturbed the studious silence. Draco tamped down his frustration towards them; this was New Year’s Eve, after all, and hardly anyone else was still working at this time.

Harry, at least, made the work easier to bear. Between pages, he’d make friendly conversation, dispensed a few amusing anecdotes about his time in boarding school and working as a star, and asked Draco just enough questions to not make him feel uncomfortable. Draco finished his part of the contract as Harry was barely two-thirds through and helped him by highlighting important clauses and summing up certain sections.

“Final document,” Harry declared around eleven-thirty, sliding the packet towards him. “Hell, I could use a drink. You?”

“Yes, please,” Draco sighed. The room had gotten warmer since he’d first arrived, and he undid the first few buttons of his shirt as Harry rose to fetch the glasses. Draco watched Harry as he poured the smooth, autumn-colored whiskey, forearm muscles moving below his rolled-up sleeves. Draco noted how form-fitting Harry’s trousers were, accentuating the curve of his ass. Draco could make out the outline of his biceps through the thin green material of his dress shirt, the contour of his back and shoulder blades. _Sweet Queen of England, he’s fit,_ Draco thought, a fact that he’d known already, but seeing his body in the flesh was another matter entirely.

“You alright?” Harry asked when he came back, and Draco realized that he’d actually sighed out loud. _Idiot._

“Just a bit tired,” Draco replied.

“This might help,” Harry said with a grin, handing him a half-full glass.

“Thanks.” As Draco took the glass, his fingertips brushed against Harry’s, and something like electricity flowed through the touch. Draco tried to calm his racing heart; thankfully, Harry didn’t seem to notice, and he settled into his chair, picking up the last bit of the contract.

“I think I can handle this last part myself,” Harry said as he grasped a pen. “Let me know if you need anything.”

“Sure.” A cozy silence fell upon the room as Harry flipped through the pages, occasionally scratching out a signature. As Draco sipped his throat-searing whiskey, he watched Harry work, bent over the paper and biting his lip in concentration. Draco wondered idly if Harry bit his lip the same way during sex - he didn’t in videos, but porn stars often made love differently off-camera.

Wild imagination carried Draco away in the stillness, and he found himself picturing the man in front of him, but with less clothes, and without the desk between them. Harry’s soft lips wrapped around his prick, rumpled black hair moving as he bobbed his head. Or perhaps the other way around, Draco kneeling before this titan of the porn industry, willfully choking on his eight inches, semen hitting the back of his throat as fiercely as whiskey.

Hands shaking, Draco gently put his glass down on the table. _First thing I’m doing when I get home,_ He told himself, _is having a proper wank._ Harry’s fingers flipped the pages, and Draco wondered what they’d feel like up his ass, working him loose while he growled filth into his ear. Maybe Harry would let Draco fuck his face, let his cock plunge over and over until his voice was hoarse. Or maybe Harry would be the one to take control, pinning, or even tying Draco to the desk, taking him over and over until Draco was begging for mercy.

“Finished!” Harry declared, letting the pages fall flat, and Draco hurriedly removed his hand from his crotch; he’d been rubbing it covertly beneath the desk without realizing. _And now I’m hard,_ Draco thought frustratedly, though he wore a polite smile. _Nice going, you stupid, randy, scum bucket._

“Brilliant,” Draco said through clenched teeth. “So, just take that your people, and I’ll take this,” He picked up Harry’s side of the contract, opened his briefcase, and slipped it in. “And we’re done! Right before New Year’s, too.” He stood from the desk, making sure to hold the briefcase in front of himself.

“Oh.” Harry looked a little disappointed. “Well…Actually, Draco, I was hoping you’d stay a little while. Just for the New Year fireworks, over the Thames; you can see them great from here. After all, I’m going to be your boss, now. Wouldn’t hurt to get to know each other a little better. Unless you’re too tired,” He added.

“Ah, no, I’m all right,” Draco laughed nervously, various images flashing through his mind in order to make himself flaccid again. _Tiny baby puppies. No, wolves. Wolves eating a deer carcass._ “I’d love to stay for a bit.”

“Wonderful.” Harry glanced at the clock hanging nearby. “They’ll start in about five minutes. Another?” He asked, holding out a hand for Draco’s empty glass.

“Yes, please.” As Harry walked away, Draco took several deep breaths. It was fine. The flickering light of the fire and the darkness outside, coupled with the random flashes of fireworks, would certainly distort shadows and shapes. Harry surely wouldn’t notice anything.

Soon enough, colors and noise began to occur on the other side of the glass, and Harry moved to stand before the floor-to-ceiling window on one side of his office. Draco followed close behind, his glass of whiskey clutched in a near-vice grip.

But when he reached the window, all the tension faded from Draco’s body. Dazzling, colorful patterns and wheels of light rocketed into the sky, the dying sparks falling towards the city below. The streets were filled with people, tiny and doll-like below them, necks craning, and mouths open in awe as they watched the show. The cold ribbon of the Thames in the distance glittered in the light, and it looked like as if it was filled with gems.

“Stunning, huh?” Harry smiled warmly at Draco, and he nodded.

“Yes.”

The pair enjoyed the display for the better part of a half-hour, alternating amicable sidelong glances with sips of potent whiskey. The fireworks bloomed like neon flowers against the black velvet of the sky, and Draco let himself relax, listening to the muffled pyrotechnic booms through the thick glass.

As the lights grew less and less frequent, Harry took Draco’s drained glass and placed both on the small table. Draco stifled a yawn, though his tiredness seemed to be more from the alcohol than from anything else. He should have been exhausted; it was well after midnight, and he’d woken early that morning. But something about being in the presence of someone he’d idolized for so many years, learning about him and basking in his self-assured aura had energized him.

Draco ran a hand through his white-blond tresses, noting that they’d gotten a bit frizzy after being away from the shower for so long. He looked forward to getting home, having that wank, and a long hot bath. Maybe pop in a film if he felt like it.

“Thanks for having me around so late,” Draco said, picking up his briefcase and smoothing his shirt.

“Oh, it’s no bother,” Harry replied, his footsteps soft on the carpet as he followed Draco to the door. “Feel free to drop by or call any time. Day or night.”

“Will do.” Draco reached for the doorknob.

Suddenly, a loud thunk echoed throughout the room as Harry, reaching over Draco’s shoulder, slammed his hand into the door. Draco let out an _eep_ of surprise, and he started to turn around to ask what was wrong when Harry began to speak.

“You think I’m stupid or something?” Harry murmured, his breath hot in Draco’s ear. “You think I can’t tell when you’re aroused? Arousing people is my _job_.”

Hoping the situation would go in one direction, but trying to stay professional, just in case, Draco stammered, “I - that was a complete accident, I assure you, I had n-no intention of-”

“I should certainly hope not. That would be completely inappropriate.” Harry waited. Then he chuckled.

“What?” Draco murmured, confused.

“I’m completely messing with you, Draco. Look at me.” That _voice._ It had changed, not drastically, from their negotiations, but Harry’s smooth baritone had somehow gotten even darker and huskier, like raw honey.

Unsure, but also a bit turned on if he was being honest with himself, Draco slowly turned. His wide eyes met Harry’s cocky ones, and the CEO’s lips twitched, as if deciding whether to smirk or smile genially.

“I’m going to give you two options,” Harry began slowly. “One, you pass through that door and go home. Two, I fuck you until you can’t walk straight.”

Draco had never been spoken to in such a straightforward manner before, but he found he loved it. Already, his knees were shaking.

“So?” Harry’s hands drifted towards Draco’s waist, so close he could feel the heat from his palms, but he didn’t make contact. “I won’t even touch you unless you agree.”

 _Consent._ Draco’s breathing grew shallow. For all of his adult life, working in the porn industry, he’d been advanced upon more times than he could count. Handsy actresses, sleazy video directors, even his own father to some degree - they’d comb their greedy fingers through his hair, grope him when they thought he was asleep, give him sloppy kisses on the cheek that he hadn’t asked for. And yet, here was Harry Potter, named the “king of sex” by Vanity Fair, asking for permission. Draco had never gotten turned on so easily by mere words before.

“Yes,” He breathed, and Harry’s lips connected with his own, so softly and sweetly Draco thought he’d faint right then and there. The feeling of a thousand gales rippled through his chest, and he felt like a teenager again, naïve and vulnerable - yet somehow safe, and cared for. How one person could convey all that through a single kiss, Draco had no idea, but he wasn’t about to question it.

Harry’s large hands cradled Draco’s torso, and it wasn’t until then that he realized he’d literally been falling, knees buckling from the pure sexual power radiating from the man before him. They broke apart, gasping for air. One of Draco’s hands rested on Harry’s waist, the other drifting to his face, fingertips brushing those oh-so-soft lips. Harry let him, and for a moment there was only the sound of breathing and a slight rustle of fabric.

Another question lingered in those emerald-green eyes. Draco nodded a fraction of a degree.

Their tongues collided with a renewed energy, a youthful sense of purpose that Draco hadn’t experienced in years. Bodies intwined, they stumbled together to the desk. Harry pulled away for one desperate moment to sweep his possessions to the side and flip a chair around. He pressed another swift, sloppy kiss to Draco’s lips before firmly pushing his hips to the desk - Harry himself propped himself up on one knee on the chair.

Draco whimpered in anticipation as Harry’s hands worked at his belt buckle, his teeth and mouth leaving marks on pale skin. Heat built between Draco’s legs as Harry picked apart his buttons, leaving a trail of kisses down his chest. A clink of metal, the buzz of the zipper.

“How do you like it, honey?” The words, hot against Draco’s ear, came as a surprise. He could hardly think of an answer, his mind clouded with lust as Harry slid his palm over Draco’s tented pants, teasingly taking him in hand.

“I…” Draco groaned as Harry pressed his thigh between his legs, one hand gliding over his bare chest, and the other getting him even harder. Unwilling to let him have all the fun, Draco reached up, tangling a hand in his dark hair, yanking his head back to look him in the eye. “I want you to take _all_ of it. Every damn inch.”

Harry licked his lips and smirked. “Yes, sir.” And all of a sudden, he pulled pants and trousers down in one fluid motion, bending over Draco’s crotch.

Something warm and slick slipped from the bottom to the very tip, pausing to swirl once around the head, then back down. Harry added a hand after a few licks, pausing to spit, saliva mixing with pre-cum, spreading along the shaft. Draco bit his lip to muffle his moans, his legs trembling as Harry engulfed him halfway, then slowly came back up, his green eyes glimmering mischievously.

Then, without warning, he plunged, all the way, as promised. Harry’s hot mouth took Draco’s cock, down to the base, with no hesitation. He stayed there for a few moments, and Draco moaned from the feeling - the twitch of Harry’s throat, a warm exchange of fluids leaking to his balls. Harry pulled back, the suddenness of cold air making Draco gasp. Harry grinned, thick strings of saliva dripping from his mouth to Draco’s stiff dick.

“Come here,” Harry purred, and Draco leaned forward, catching his lips, and tasted himself, his desire in physical form. Harry shared the beginning of his efforts with his tongue, pushing against Draco’s.

He pulled away and began again, faster this time, one hand to aid, teeth scraping gently, thumb rubbing the sensitive head, tongue swirling around his prick as if it were a grape popsicle. Draco found himself searching Harry’s eyes every time he came up for any signs of exhaustion, but his enthusiasm never faded. Every few strokes, Harry deepthroated, holding his lips to Draco’s bare hips for longer and longer each time. His hand and mouth moved faster and faster, pumping the length, and Draco’s breathing grew shallow.

“Harry…” Draco moaned, high-pitched, his head lolling, “I’m close. S-swallow it.”

Harry hummed in affirmation, the vibrations making Draco’s fingers clamp the side of the desk. The rhythm increased. Draco felt his dick twitching - shit, he was going to come…but he had to keep his eyes open…he wanted to see if the indomitable Harry Potter would choke…

The very tip of his tongue, impossibly, brushed Draco’s balls, and Harry held for the longest time yet…tears must have been brought to his eyes…Draco cried out at the sheer sensation of his dick surrounded by his hot, pulsing throat.

Cum flowed into Harry’s mouth, and he swallowed without even blinking, pulling his head back, sucking Draco clean. His pale chest covered in a sheen of sweat, Draco gripped the desk as he rode the very end of the orgasm, hips bucking into the recent memory of Harry’s sweet mouth. More cum dribbled from the tip, and Harry watched it drip onto the carpet, satisfied.

“Holy shit.” Draco grinned almost manically, his silver eyes ablaze. “You - you’re…”

“Some kind of cock-sucking expert?” Harry suggested. “You could say that.” He stepped back from the desk, unbuttoning his own shirt, tossing it to the floor. Soon he was stripped bare, and Draco felt himself getting hard all over again at the sight; toned stomach soft enough at the edges, sculpted arms, brown thighs ascending into dark curls surrounding a stiff, eight-inch dick.

Draco moved as if to stand, willing to return Harry’s favor, but Harry laid a hand on his arm. “Turn around and close your eyes.”

Surprised, but mouth twitching into a smile, Draco obliged. The darkness behind his eyelids thrummed with a good kind of tension, every noise that Harry made as loud as a slammed door in the quiet. Draco heard him move behind the desk, opening a drawer, retrieving something from the inside.

A cool, viscous liquid dripped onto Draco’s tailbone, slowly flowing downwards. Warm fingers teased the outside of his asshole, gently working him open, slipping in one knuckle, then two. Draco arched his spine under Harry’s ministrations, shivering as he brushed against his prostate. As Harry’s fingers curled and dipped, he pressed his lips to Draco’s neck, his shoulders, brushing his long hair forward.

“What do you want?” Harry murmured as he added a third finger, and Draco hissed in pleasure. “What do you want, Draco?” Pumping in and out, slowly, stretching him out, but Draco wanted…

“More.” Draco’s eyes opened in anticipation, taking in the glow of the office, a workspace they’d marked as their own. “I want you.”

“I’m here,” Harry bent his knuckles, roughly, hitting Draco’s prostate, and he let out an involuntary moan. “What do you want from me?”

“I want…I want you inside me,” He whispered, his head bending back into the crook of Harry’s neck.

“Can’t hear you, honey.” Harry pumped his fingers in and out, increasing the pace.

“I want you t-to fuck me,” Draco pleaded breathlessly. “I want you to come inside me, please…”

“Show me how much you want it.”

At first, Draco thought Harry was going to ask him to beg, but instead he gently guided him away from the desk, one hand still in his ass. They clumsily moved towards the floor-to-ceiling windows. Stray fireworks illuminated the streets, where celebrators inched drunkenly down the sidewalks far below. Draco began to shy away, but Harry pushed him carefully towards the window, and he reluctantly rested both hands on the glass.

“Show them how much you want me.” Harry’s fingers disappeared, then the tip of his cock was there, pressing against Draco, slowly sliding inside him. Draco was speechless, gasping silently as Harry’s prick filled him inch by tantalizing inch, flesh warm and thicker than expected. “I did say I was going to fuck you until you couldn’t walk straight.”

Draco scarcely had time to nod before Harry began to thrust, right away, at a frightening pace, his hands wrapped around Draco’s waist. Tight and loose, filled and open, one after the other, prostate hit over and over - “Fuck!” Draco gasped, his fingers trembling against the glass. He leaned forward, pressing his hips back to match Harry’s rhythm, back and forth, merciless, unyielding.

Harry’s balls slapped obscenely against Draco’s ass - he felt ridiculously exposed up here, where anyone could see them. And yet he loved it, the indecency of Harry showing all of London just how hard he could fuck. Draco panted in sync with the quick pace, dick twitching in pleasure and asshole clenching around Harry’s meaty prick, feeling his pre-cum mix with the cool lube inside him.

“You’re so tight,” Harry groaned, his hips meeting Draco’s with every thrust. Draco found himself flushing at the strange compliment, but he took it in stride, relishing the ecstasy, his breath and hands fogging the glass.

Over and over, skin on skin. Draco panted, hard, clenching his asshole around Harry’s dick, hearing him moan in response. Tighter, even tighter. His hands slid a bit down the glass, arms trembling with the effort of holding himself up. Nevertheless, he felt as if he could do this for hours, getting fucked in a window, an enormous member thick and wet in his ass. Draco practically bounced on Harry, sliding back and forth at a relentless pace, fluids escaping and trickling down his inner thighs in their haste.

“Yes, yes, yes…” Draco muttered, reaching back with one hand, encouraging Harry to push faster, harder. Harry laced their fingers, and Draco twisted slightly, their mouths meeting clumsily. Christ, he could get used to this, used to everything - Harry’s slippery dick pulsating within him, soft lips against his, strong hands pressing against his lower back.

Harry Potter fucked his employee with a wild abandon, their moans mixing with the scent of pure sex in the air. Their hips slammed together in a lustful repetition, cocks throbbing with desire, mouths open and panting, eyes meeting whenever they could. They wanted to get closer, closer. Sweaty limbs entangling and tongues twisting in a rapid, exposed dance.

Faster, faster. Draco wanted to come, wanted to feel the sweet release once more. As if reading his mind, Harry reached around his sweat-slicked body, taking him in hand again. “Harry…” Draco murmured his name like a prayer as he slid his hand back and forth along his dripping cock in sync with his fucking.

“Shit, I’m close,” Harry groaned, his thrusts becoming more erratic and desperate. Knowing his own body had nearly brought the porn star to orgasm somehow turned Draco on even more, and he felt himself twitching in Harry’s jerking hand. He grinded his hips against Harry as hard as he could, feeling every inch of flesh fill him, riding his length as if his life depended on it.

“I’m - I’m com- oh!” Draco shrieked, semen splattering the window - the scandal of the sight made him feel filthy in the best kind of way, and he added his own hand to the mix, pumping himself until he had no more left to give.

Harry came with a wordless cry soon after, buried deep within Draco, flooding him with cum. He rode out his orgasm inside him, and Draco bit his lip in pleasure, feeling Harry’s heat along his skin, his breath as he panted.

 _What a picture we must make,_ Draco thought giddily as Harry rested his head on his shoulder, catching his breath. He drew his cock out, the motion eliciting a rather wet noise that made Draco blush.

A beat of silence, then… “Wow.” Draco couldn’t think of what else to say. His legs were trembling with exhaustion. “That was…”

“Amazing.” Harry chuckled, caressing Draco’s shoulders. “You were amazing.”

Draco smiled, glanced embarrassingly at the smeared window. “Sorry about the mess.”

“You taking the piss?” Harry stepped in front of Draco, his green eyes glittering in the light of the dying fireworks. “I’m willing to make many more messes, if you are.” He grinned, and even in his weariness, Draco felt a wave of excitement. This new year was turning out to be one of the best ever.

**Author's Note:**

> This is only about my 4th time writing smut, but I tried my best. Hopefully I'm getting better each time!


End file.
